Salvific
by K'Arthur
Summary: S. 1228. Kevin and Estelle finally realize what they both need.


_For Jabby_

**Salvific**

* * *

_S. 1228  
_

It was a ritual that had cursed Kevin for seven years.

Every mid-June, he would make this pilgrimage to visit one of his closest friends and help her celebrate the life of the man she had loved. It always began the same, but the endings had changed over time. And for that, he was grateful.

As he made his way towards the small house on the outskirts of Rolent, he could already hear the exchange they'd have when he knocked on the door. It had been the same for the past seven years.

"I'm surprised you're still alive," she said, opening the door. The first few years, there was a slight edge on those words. These days, there was none at all. It was a kindly tease, a familiar, warm greeting.

And he replied, as he always did, year after year, "Yeah, me too."

He stepped through the door and waited with her in the kitchen. She had something cooking on the stove—fish chowder, he guessed. Her cat, a bright red tabby that her son had named Gus, greeted him by rubbing against his legs.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Are you?"

"Just need to get the flowers," she said.

Stepping outside, she began gathering flowers from the garden. He followed and took a moment to admire her, even knowing it was selfish to do so. Over the years, her appearance had somewhat changed; hips slightly rounded by motherhood and her famous twin tails traded in for a single one that she wore long down her back. Her smile remained the same, though. Brilliant, entrancing, and everything Kevin had fallen in love with all those years ago.

Normally, she would bring a bouquet of red roses clipped from the large bush nearby and some lavender picked from the garden. This year, she only brought sweet peas. He raised a brow at the choice, and her only response was to turn and head down the road beyond. He followed, wordlessly.

Their destination was the small, desolate hill at the end of the road. Only a handful of graves were there, but they were all her family's final resting place, each member memorialized in granite. Together, they approached the one in the furthest corner, a small, simple stone with a name and a pair of dates. But Joshua wouldn't have wanted anything fancier anyway. She set the flowers on the stone and knelt down to pray. Kevin did the same. When they rose, he took her hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. And then, after a moment of reflection, he took the Church's medallion from his belt and held it up, letting it shine over the headstone with a final, official blessing.

They stood in silence for a good few minutes, and she never loosened her grip of his hand.

Finally, she said, "I'll go start dinner. I hope you're planning to stay."

"Of course. I need a minute with him, if that's okay."

She nodded and walked away, leaving Kevin alone, staring at the sweet peas on the grave. The language of flowers was one of those things the Church expected him to learn. He sighed as his thoughts became scattered.

Was she really ready to say that to Joshua?  
Or was he just reading too much into this?  
Seven years was a long time.  
So much had changed.  
And each year, it seemed she was doing better.  
Each year, it seemed they were growing closer.  
And Kevin cursed himself for that.  
But maybe it was what she wanted.  
Because he knew he did.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I gotta confess something. I love her, too. I have for a long time, y'know. Back when we were stuck in that Phantasma place I guess is when it really hit me. I wasn't gonna act on it. Not because I was afraid of getting rejected or anything like that, but because I respected you and I respected her and I respected what the two of you had together. I loved you both, y'know? I don't have many friends, but I'd count you two among the best."

He ran his hand through his bright green hair, the tufts nearest his ears showing bits of hard earned gray. Another moment, and he scratched the back of his neck as he tried to find the words. He wasn't normally this tongue-tied, much less to someone who couldn't answer back, but somehow, this became the hardest thing he'd had to say to anyone in a very long time.

"She's lonely. She misses you, but—" he stopped and sighed. "I don't know, Joshua. I don't know if anything that I do is right anymore. But I just wanted you to know how I feel here, okay? Don't hate me, alright? Call me selfish, because I am. I'm a selfish jerk, a total jackass of a guy, I know that. But I want to make her happy, y'know?"

He kicked at a piece of time sepith in the dirt as he recalled how this entire nightmare started on a terrible, oddly cold June day seven years ago. He'd been on the opposite side of the world when word reached him that Joshua had passed away. It wasn't blade, nor gun, nor tank, nor even Divine Knight that had brought down one of the strongest Bracers in Zemuria. It had sadly been some sort of virus. The one type of fight Joshua couldn't win on his own, and no doctor had the cure.

Perhaps if Kevin had known, he could've been there.  
Perhaps if he had been there, his Thaumaturgy could have succeeded where medicine had failed.  
Perhaps, he could've found a way and saved one of his closest friends and her son the trauma and tears.  
_Perhaps_. It was a word that he'd grown to loathe over the years for how powerless it made him.

By the time he had managed to get to Rolent, the funeral mass had been said and the headstone placed. He paid his respects and left Estelle some money on the counter of her kitchen when she wasn't looking. It still felt like an empty gesture, but a necessary one. As he was leaving, he ruffled the black hair of her eleven year-old son, Daniel. "I'll come back. I promise."

He kept that promise.  
Year after year.

The second year, she cooked dinner for the three of them. He complimented the meal with, "you're getting pretty good at this." She gave a wry grin and replied, "well, I couldn't really get any worse." They shared a guarded laugh at her self-degradation and ate in near silence. Afterwards, he presented Daniel with treats and toys gathered on his missions from different countries. They shared a drink after the boy had gone to bed, raising their glasses in Joshua's honor and then poured another to toast absent friends. She offered him a room for the night, but he didn't want to impose upon her. More importantly, he didn't trust himself, especially after a few drinks. He was halfway back to Arteria before he realized she'd put the money he'd left the year before back in his pocket.

The third year, he brought a red tabby kitten with him. He'd found the little thing cowering in one of the terrible places he'd been forced to go for work. When the kitten poked his head out of Kevin's coat pocket, Daniel smiled, a brilliant, captivating smile that mirrored his mother's own. Estelle said it was the first time she'd seen him that happy since his father's passing, thanking Kevin with a warm, genuine hug. They shared a bottle of wine and stories of the past year. He again refused her offer for a room for the night but gave her a tender kiss on the hand before departing.

The fourth year, Daniel announced he would make them dinner. He did quite a good job with the meal even insisting on cleaning up by himself. Kevin decided to join him out of common courtesy. When Estelle was out of ear shot, the young man said, "You make my mom happy. She looks forward to seeing you every year. She even cleans the house before you visit." Kevin laughed at that and Daniel added, "I wish you'd come more often, too. I like seeing her smile." After that, Daniel made himself scarce and the two of them shared some nice Erebonian cabernet she'd bought just for the visit. She turned on the orbal radio and asked him to dance with her, and he did. Their long, slow steps crossed her living room for nearly an hour between sips of the wine. She rested her head on his chest and again asked if he'd like to stay. He kissed her forehead and said it would be best for him to go, but he gave her one more dance.

The fifth year, she admitted to being lonely since Daniel had left three months prior to attend Jenis Royal Academy. Though her eyes were soft, she laughed and said, "I hope he doesn't learn what part Joshua had in that ridiculous play that we put on!" Kevin laughed with her; he'd heard that legendary story plenty of times from the two of them. She gave a reminiscent smile and grabbed his hand. "Let's go night fishing," she said. And so, they made their way to small pond behind her house where they cast their lines. Her head rested on his shoulder as they watched for bites and drank some wine. The moon reached its peak in the sky and he kissed her forehead before announcing he had to leave.

Last year, he brought some tequila from Arteria and she challenged him to a bit of a drinking contest. It quickly became obvious that he would win. After she took the fourth shot, she leaned close to him. Her lips mere millimeters from his own when she said, "Kiss me." He almost did. He wanted to. Aidios knows he wanted to, but it felt so wrong in that moment. Bleary-eyed, she rested her head on his shoulder and quickly fell asleep. He lifted her into his arms and carried her to her bed, carefully tucking her in and giving her a kiss on the cheek. He stayed later than usual that night, finishing the bottle by himself and keeping watch over her as she slept. Studying the rhythm of her breath, he managed to both despise himself and find pride in his ability to stare temptation in the face and walk away.

And now, standing there, staring at where Joshua rested, he rubbed his eyes. "I'm probably going to give in to her this year, just so you know. It's time to quit pretending, for both our sakes."

The wind picked up then, circling a few of the petals from Estelle's flowers around him. The tall lapel of his coat slapped him in the cheek.

He made his way back to her house and let himself in. She had made a delicious smelling fish chowder and they sat down to eat. The chatter was idle, but there was an uncanny tension in the air. Neither hostile nor worrisome, but anticipatory. Kevin knew they both realized they needed something from each other, even if they weren't ready to speak of it.

As they finished the meal, he told her how he was still chasing demons for the church and doing his best to keep the peace from the shadows. It had become a lonely life and he hated it, though he did not dare to say this out loud.

"Do you ever get to retire?" she asked.

"I don't think so, but I'm ready to quit."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he said, clearing the plates, and taking them to the sink. "I don't know how my bosses would feel about that, but at this point, I honestly don't care."

She smiled and got up to help. "I guess it's not really like quitting any other job."

He shook his head. "I've got this. Find us something to drink."

"Wine? Beer? Something else?"

"Wine sounds good."

He heard her walk away as he continued washing the dishes in silence.

A few moments later he felt her arms encircle his waist. "I look forward to your visits," she said, hugging him from behind as he washed the dishes in the sink. "I wish they happened more often."

"You do?"

"Yes," she said, her head resting against the tender space just below his shoulder blades. "No one else comes to see me as religiously as you do."

"Well, religion, church, all that," he teased. "Sometimes I do get things right, y'know."

"I'm serious," she said, still holding onto him. "And, I love you, Kevin."

Those were the words he'd yearned to hear for years. Although, in retrospect, they were quite unnecessary. He set the dish he was working on down and turned to grasp her hands, his still wet from the chore. "I love you, too. I have for a long time now."

"Yeah, I know," she answered, resting her head against his chest.

She stood on her tip toes, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he could feel the years of desire in her lips as they grasped his own. After a moment, she pulled back and grinned at him. "You didn't just break your vows, did you?"

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers, relishing the moment he'd been waiting decades for and desperately wanting to feel that thrill from seconds ago again. Giving her a wry smile before kissing along her neck, his words were interspersed within each caress. "Nah, the rules are different for guys like me. Either way, I'd break them in a heartbeat for you."

And that was the damn truth.

"Good," she said, splaying her fingers across his chest to grasp the lapel of his coat before sliding it off his shoulders.

He helped her by shrugging the rest of it off and then pulled her close. He relished the feel of her against him—her warmth, the way her hair smelled of lavender, even how her breath echoed his own. But there was so much more he wanted to do with her, even if it wasn't chaste. Lifting her up to seat her on the kitchen table, he gave her a deep, ardent kiss, one that caused his heart to skip as she returned it with equal fervent.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he confessed, his hands wandering along her sides.

Her answer was to jerk his shirt free from his belt and slide her hands underneath against his skin. "You better keep your hands on me."

He closed his eyes and visibly shivered at her exhilarating touch and command. It was inviting, tempting, and desperate all at the same time and he was all the more eager to return it. Kissing her again, his fingers found their way under her skirt, exploring the long-forbidden curves of her hips.

A contented sigh escaped her lips, one that she likely had held there for years. Nipping at his neck, she wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him even closer to her. "Stay," was all she whispered.

This time, he didn't refuse.

* * *

It was a beautiful sight to awaken to; one that Kevin would cherish as long as Aidios let him live. Estelle, curled up next to him, her long, chestnut hair sweeping along her side and his arm resting perfectly in that comfortable space around her waist. He had hoped to fulfill a mission without waking her, but he failed.

"Are you awake already?" she asked, not even rolling over.

Kissing her on the cheek and rubbing his thumb along her stomach, he said, "Yeah, don't worry. I'll be right back."

"You better," she answered without even opening her eyes. "And get coffee."

He laughed at that. "I promise."

She made a noise that sounded affirmative and he grinned, knowing that this sight would be his to enjoy for the rest of his life, if she'd have him. Regrettably, he got up, quickly dressed and went to finish the conversation he had started yesterday.

Standing on that hill, he once again spoke to an old friend. "Y'know, yesterday I was unsure, but now I know what I want to say. She wants to be happy. And I want to make her happy. I'm not gonna replace you or anything like that. I just don't like seeing her cry and I don't like seeing her lonely. Like I told you yesterday, I love her. I mean that. I'm going back to Arteria and I'm telling those idiots I work for that I'm done. If they give me grief—well, I don't think they will, knowing what I can do. I just want to live in peace. I don't think even my bosses can argue that's a bad thing. But give me a week and I'll be coming back to her and I'm gonna make sure she doesn't cry ever again."

As the wind picked up and fluttered the collar of his coat, somewhere in the middle distance, he swore he heard the words in a familiar voice give a soft response. "Just be good to her. And don't forget her coffee."


End file.
